


The Long Road

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [43]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Road Trip, Romance, Rumbelle - Freeform, pre-rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 00:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4899208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle and Rumple travel to New York City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is going to run on prompts mostly and it will be composed of drabbles and ficlets. It will be very fluffy and rumbelle-y - with the occasional angst because, you know... _me_.
> 
> Maddie is my busy beta, as always :)

“Just don’t have sex with him.”

Belle choked on her iced tea. Across from her, Ruby’s face was dead serious.

“ _What_?” she snapped in a low whisper.

“Just promise me this,” her friend insisted. “If the opportunity presents itself, you won’t have sex with Mr. Gold on the hood of the his Cadillac.”

“Ruby!” Belle said, looking around and lowering her voice even more. It didn’t matter that it was so early in the morning and the dinner was practically empty. All it took was one person for the rumor to spread quickly. “I’m not going to have sex on the hood of his Cadillac! For goodness sake!”

“Nor in the backseat, like a proper lady?”

“ _Ruby_!”

“This is a bad decision!” Ruby said. After three days of being lectured on the subject by her best friend (a best friend, mind you, who was prone to making bad decisions herself), Belle was on the verge of telling her she sounded like a broken record. “A bad, terrible,  _horrible_  decision! But since you refuse to listen to me, on the  _one_  occasion when I am being the reasonable one out of the two of us,  _at least_  promise me you won’t take it one step further before he gets a divorce. And a restraining order. Just promise me  _that_.”

“Nothing will happen because there is nothing  _to_  happen,” Belle argued. “That was just a silly thought. It meant nothing and it won’t happen again.”

“But what if the car breaks down? What if you are stranded in the middle of nowhere? What if you get caught in the rain, get soaked wet, and start getting bad ideas.”

Belle stared at her. “Since this isn’t a romantic comedy, I assume we will be fine.”

“But  _what if_ , Belle?”

“If the thought even pops into my head, I will immediately think of you, scolding at me over breakfast. That will be enough to kill the mood. But that won’t be necessary because we will spend eight hours on the road, sitting far apart from each other, talking about nothing important, or enjoying awkward moments of silence. That will be it.”

“Right.”

Belle waited.

“But just in case everything else fails, I got you some condoms.”

“ _Ruby_!”

“What?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple says goodbye to Milah.

“So you are leaving.”

There it was, the final argument. Just on schedule.

“Yes,” Rumple said, suitcase in hand. He had hoped to give her a goodbye kiss and part ways on good terms, but it was clear by her demeanor that it wouldn’t be possible. In fact, he’d count himself lucky if he could make it to the car without her shouting abuse at him. “I really don’t want to fight-”

“I think you’ve made what you want pretty clear.”

His shoulders slumped. “You know, maybe two weeks apart will do us some good.”

Milah didn’t answer.

“You clearly cannot stand the sight of me.”

“You’re the one who’s been holed up in the bedroom for six weeks.”

Rumple almost argued, but held his tongue. Whenever she was like this, he might as well talk to a wall.

“Since you insist you did nothing wrong,” she continued, “I have no idea why you’re trying so hard to avoid me.”

“We can have this fight all over again when I come back, Milah. Can’t we just pretend to be civilized people and say goodbye without an argument?”

“Who says I’ll be here when you come back?”

Rumple stared at her.

Milah shrugged. “Maybe I’ll go on vacations by myself.”

“With whom?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Milah smirked at him. It was just the question she had hoped for. She had managed to get the biker into his head with two sentences, and now there was jealousy and insecurity gnawing at him, making him finally care about her feelings, about how many bad decisions she could make in two weeks. Would she even wait for him if he left now?

This was a new strategy and Rumple did not like it one bit. He always thought Killian would be his leverage, just like Cora was hers, something he could use when the fight escalated. But as it turned out, Milah knew just how to wrap him around her finger. She wasn’t afraid to imply she might find something (or someone) better to do in his absence, and if he wanted to stop her, he better stay at home just like she told him to. That was a low blow.

And if he gave in to it now, Milah would use it again whenever she didn’t get things her way.

“You are a grown woman, Milah,” he finally said, much to her immediate disappointment. “You can do whatever you want. You usually do.”

Without bothering to even ask for a kiss, he left the room. Rumple almost expected her to run after him on his way to the garage, not with an apology, he wasn’t that naive, but ready to start another fight. In a way, he was hoping for it. Her violence was often less destructive than her silence. The fact that she was now sitting quietly on the couch, bitter and full of bad ideas to mull over, filled him with worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking fluffy prompts for this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple picks Belle up for their trip.

Rumple had asked her to wait near the pawnshop, his excuse being that it was closer to the road. Belle knew it was because meeting at Granny’s or in front of the clock tower was bound to attract attention, whilst the pawnshop was surrounded by other small businesses that didn’t open before nine o'clock. But she didn't point that out.

She also didn't say a word when Rumple just popped the trunk and didn't get out of the car to help her with the small suitcase she was carrying.

"Forgive my lack of manners," he asked. "My ankle's been bothering me since I woke up."

"It's alright. I packed lightly," she said, and she meant it. She could manage a small suitcase on her own. But it was clear that he didn't want to be seen with her, and that could only mean one thing: Milah had no idea she was joining him for the trip.

Maybe she should ask him. It was the right thing to do. Then, they could reevaluate the whole thing and decide whether or not this trip was a good idea.

But when Rumple eyed her purse and said, "That's lightly, is it?" Belle ignored her own advice.

"I packed a light _suitcase_. But things may have gotten a little out of control when it comes to the books. You know me. Will you want me to take the wheel?"

"Maybe later, but I'm good for now if you'd like to take a nap."

"I've had so much coffee I don't think I'll blink my eyes the whole trip. Would you like some?"

She took a thermos out of her purse.

He shook his head. "What _don't_ you have in that bag?"

" _Twilight_."

Rumple laughed. "Is it strong? Because I might need it."

"Very strong. And I also have some books for the ride."

"I'm willing to bet you have a whole library in that thing." He drove towards the town line. "Alright. Last chance. If we cross that line there is no turning back."

Belle opened her mouth to do the right thing, though she wasn't really sure what that was. Asking about Milah, probably. Putting an end to things altogether would be better, though. This was not the way things were supposed to go. She was about to get herself into a mess.

"Yes," she answered, before her rational side could choose what to say. "Yes. This is going to be great."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fill for the following prompts: 1. Belle falls asleep while reading one of her books in the car. Glimmer/insight into some more of Mr. Gold’s musings and thoughts about his /friendship/ with her. 2. Gold starts to realize he doesn’t see Belle as a daughter anymore. And the day to day interactions he has with her are what he deserves to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verse: Behind Closed Doors
> 
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

Despite claiming to have drunk several cups of coffee, Belle still fell asleep after a couple of hours, her head tilted against the window on the passenger side, hands neatly folded on her lap. She had tried to keep the conversation going for as long as she could, showing him the books she had selected for the trip, and asking advice on where to go first in New York City. She wouldn’t have a lot of time for site-seeing and she wanted to make the best out of it. After the first hundred miles, however, her eyes started getting heavy and her enthusiasm gave in.

“If you want to take a nap, I don’t mind,” he said, the third time she tried to suppress a yawn.

“No, I promised you a fun trip,” she replied.

Rumple shook his head. He’d forgotten how stubborn she could be. But after reassuring her that he did not mind driving in silence for a little while, she agreed to close her eyes for five minutes, as long as he promised to wake her up if she dozed off.

That had been forty five minutes ago. Rumple made a point at driving smoothly and going easy on the speed bumps. If anybody deserved a few more hours of sleep, it was Belle. She hadn’t taken a break from the library since it reopened, as far as he knew. No weekends off with friends, no lazy Sunday afternoons doing nothing.

No dates either.

Rumple looked at her for a brief moment, then back at the road. Belle never mentioned any boyfriends, except on the rare occasions when she mentioned Gaston. But why would she tell _him_  something so personal? She didn’t owe him every detail of her personal life just because they were friends.

Then again, it was a small town. If there was a man in her life, he was bound to have heard it from someone else by now. Sydney Glass would probably have written an entire article on the gossip page. Or Milah would have brought him the news directly, just to see his reaction.

 _And why are you obsessing over her love life?_ , demanded Milah’s voice inside his head.

He shuddered and told himself that he wasn’t  _obsessing_ , just wondering. As a friend.

_A friend twenty years her senior._

_Who saw her grow up._

_Who has a wife that, for better or worse, hasn’t divorced you yet._

_And who keeps stealing glances at the hem of her skirt when she isn’t looking._

_Some friend._

_You are a sick old man_.

God, this had been a bad idea. What did he even expect to accomplish by dragging Belle to New York with him? This wasn’t him “being a nice friend”, no one would ever believe that. Milah would surely never believe that, especially since he was doing this behind her back.

This was Cora all over again.

In his distress, he didn’t notice the speed bump ahead and the whole car shook violently as it ran over it at full speed. Belle jolted awake. She looked around momentarily lost – Rumple made a point at keeping his eyes on the road, and trying not to think how cute she looked, bewildered and sleepy.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see the speed bump.”

She said, “How-how long have I been sleeping?”

“About…” he checked his wristwatch. “About an hour.”

“I told you to wake me up in five minutes,” she protested.

“I’m sorry about that too. Seemed like you could use some sleep,” he explained.

She rubbed the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge her make-up.

“Do you want me to take the wheel? You look a little…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Like you could use a break.”

Rumple noticed he had been grasping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The recently healed fracture protested with an uncomfortable throb. Trying to relax his hands didn’t change much. He wondered if he looked as tense as he felt right now, with Milah’s voice whispering poison inside his head.

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t dare look at Belle to see if she bought it. She probably didn’t.

“I’m getting hungry,” he added, before she had time to react. “Maybe you can take over after lunch.”

“Oh good!” Belle said, sounding a little more excited. “I’ve packed us sandwiches. Or would you rather stop somewhere and have real food?”

“Stop somewhere. My leg could use a break.”

And being surrounded by other people might be good to keep his mind from wandering to dangerous places. But there was no reason to tell Belle  _that_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a fill for the prompt: _Rumple and Belle stop at a diner on their drive to New York and spend their entire meal in happy conversation. Afterwards a waitress or another diner comments that they’re a lovely couple._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verse: Behind Closed Doors
> 
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

“Have you ever stopped here before?” Belle asked, checking the plastic menu.

“I suppose. They all blend in after a few trips.”

“What’s the name of this place again?”

“Not Granny’s.”

Belle giggled. “Is that so? I didn’t know you were so attached to our local diner.”

Rumple looked over the menu. His neck looked so tense she could actually feel it from across the table. But now his eyes were alert, focused on hers for the first time since she’d woken up.

“Does Granny know of your true feelings for her lasagna?” she teased. “Maybe I should let her know.”

“I’ll deny everything,” he said. “And I always found her lasagna to be overrated.”

Belle looked over her shoulder and leaned closer, dropping her voice to a whisper, as if Granny could pop out of nowhere and overhear them. “So do I. But she makes such a big deal out of it.”

“Yes,” Rumple agreed, starting to grin. “Does anyone actually like it?”

“Ruby does.”

Rumple shook his head, silently judging her best friend’s taste. When he looked back at the menu, there was a smile on his lips that hadn’t been there before and some of the tension on his shoulders had dissipated.

He said, “Not that this looks any morepromising.”

“Yes. I don’t know what looks scarier, the Suicide Burger or the Manslaughter Pork Chops.”

“This would never happen at Granny’s.”

Belle laughed. “I suppose not.”

Rumple raised his hand, calling the waitress over, a lovely looking blonde woman in her fifties who gave them an affable smile that was full of sparkling teeth. Her name tag announced “Betty” in cursive blue letters. “And what will it be for you, my dearests?”

“Do you have anything that, uhn…” he looked at the menu, trying to pick words that wouldn’t result in spit in his coffee. “Anything that doesn’t sound life threatening?”

“Smooth,” Belle mumbled from the other side of the table.

But Betty laughed. “'fraid not. But I can get the cook to prepare you a couple of plain burgers, if you’re not feeling very adventurous.”

Rumple raised his eyebrows at Belle. “What do you think?”

“That works for me.”

“I can give you some poutine with that,” she offered, but Rumple raised his hand before Belle could accept.

“You don’t want poutine,” he said. “Trust me. Neal’s going to make you eat more poutine than you can handle this weekend. It’s his go-to celebration food.”

“In this case, I’ll just order a side salad, if I can.”

“Of course you can,” Betty said, cheerfully jotting down words. “And where are the two of you heading up to?”

Belle answered, “We’re going to New York. It’s his son’s birthday.”

“Oh, that is just wonderful.” Betty turned to Rumple. “How old is he turning, sweetheart?”

Rumple, who was not used to having such long conversations with staff, and even less used to being called sweetheart by strange women, seemed a little lost at first, but muttered, “He’s 30,” before picking up the menu again and pretending to read it.

“Lovely! And let me tell you, it’s so nice to see everyone getting along so well.”

Belle frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“That his son’s accepted you into the family. It’s usually so hard when the new wife is so young. I could tell you some stories…”

Belle and Rumple jumped at the same time, her saying “No, you don’t understand!” and him saying “No, no, no, no! I’m married!”

But Betty seemed unfazed by that. She simply shook her head and smiled. “What a lovely couple the both of you make. I’ll go get your order.” And walked away from their table, leaving both Rumple and Belle staring after her, too afraid to turn back and face each other.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a fill for this prompt: Road trip!!! Maybe belle and rumple pull into some greasy spoon and start to open up??? I love road trips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

“So… do you think it’s going to rain this weekend?”

Rumple had to make an extra effort not to grimace. Good god, this was what they had come to: talking about the weather. But he supposed it was better than sitting quietly for another minute. They had barely spoken a word to each other since the waitress had left with their orders.

“It’s supposed to be nice,” he answered, looking at her and trying to sound pleasant. “Great if you want to go to the Central Park.”

“Yes, I cannot wait to go there.”

“Yes, you said that.”

“Yes, I did,” Belle nodded, sounding like she was chastising herself for her lack of imagination. She sighed and looked out of the window, desperately searching for a new subject. Anything to take their minds from what the waitress had just said. “Uhn… do you go to New York very often?”

“No,” Rumple answered. “Not very often. Every three or four months. Last time, it was Christmas. I only stayed for the weekend though.”

“I bet the city was crowded.”

He scoffed. “You have no idea.”

Belle waited for him to go on, but he didn’t seem willing to elaborate on the unpleasantness of a crowded city.

“Uhn… Don’t you ever stay longer?” Belle asked, just to keep the conversation going. Maybe if she pushed it long enough, it would eventually find its natural course.

Rumple shrugged. “Once I stayed about three weeks, but that was the longest.”

Belle said, “Ah,” and the memory of what Ruby had told her must have come through inher voice, because now he was staring at her.

Belle lowered her eyes.

He said, “I thought gossip would have died by now.”

“Sorry,” Belle said. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know,” he cut in. “It’s fine. Was it Ruby who told you?”

“Yes.”

“Did she tell you why?” he asked,

Belle frowned her face, trying to make sense of his question. “You mean… why you left your wife?”

Rumple answered, “Yes,” and he looked so distressed that Belle would have lied if the answered had been anything but, “No. She doesn’t really know.”

He sighed with relief. “Good.” He paused for a moment, then added, “For a couple of months, everybody seemed to have a different theory. I couldn’t go anywhere without people whispering behind my back.”

“That must have been hard.”

“Yes.” He raised his eyes to look at her, then shook his head. “I’m sorry for unloading that on you.”

“Don’t be. That’s what friends are for.”

“I abuse the privilege sometimes.”

“Never! And either way, you shouldn’t worry. Small towns run on gossip, but people move on quickly.”

“Ruby hasn’t, and it’s been almost two years now.”

“Yes, but Ruby  _never_  forgets anything.”

He nodded. “Regina doesn’t forget it either. She loves to drag that story out when she’s feeling particularly mean. Though, to be fair, I like to drag some of her dirt out when  _I_ ’m feeling particularly mean.”

“I can’t see you being mean to anyone,” Belle said.

“Well, Regina is a special case. We have a, uhn,  _complex_  relationship.”

“I’m pretty sure all of Regina’s relationships are  _complex_.”

“Yes, that’s probably accurate.”

“You know she makes me call her Madam Mayor?”

Rumple snorted out a laughter.

“I know!” Belle replied. “I mean, it’s not like we were ever friends, or anything. But we grew up together! She’s barely eight years older than me!”

“Don’t take it to heart, Belle. She’s like this to everybody. I know quite a few stories about Madam Mayor that would make your hair stand on end.”

“Mr. Gold!” Belle said, feigning shock. “Are you offering to partake in  _gossip_  with me?”

He smirked at her. “Unless you have any moral objections?”

“Would Madam Mayor have such moral objections?”

“I doubt it.”

She smiled at him. “Then I believe our lunch just got interesting.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don’t remember who prompted this (or where I put the prompt, for that matter), but here it is: Rumple finds the condoms in Belle’s purse and thinks she wants to seduce him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

Belle wiped her lips and said, “This was actually quite nice.”

“Careful, Granny might hear you.”

“And do you promise me Neal will have us eating poutine all weekend?”

“For the  _tenth_  time, yes. You will not miss out on the overrated experience that is the New York City poutine. But I am not to blame for your disappointment.”

“If you don’t like fries, and you don’t like onion rings. What  _do_  you like?”

“Why would you think I don’t like onion rings?”

Belle cleared her throat and looked poignantly at his plate, where a dozen onion rings remained untouched near the empty space left by his burger.

Rumple frowned, as if noticing them for the first time. “Huh.”

“Huh?” Belle repeated. “Huh what?”

“I’m so used to sharing them with Milah I didn’t even realize I still had them.”

Belle wondered what “sharing with Milah” must usually entail, but didn’t like where her imagination led her.

Out loud, she said, “Well, she’s not here and I don’t care for onion rings. Dig in.”

Rumple looked at the food on his plate, then at Belle again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

“I’m fine. I ate a lot of salad,” she replied, wondering if he might just stop eating if she accepted his offer, just to make sure she got as many onion rings as she wanted.

Still looking a little unsure, he reached for a single onion ring and took a bite out of it. He nodded his head, “Not bad.”

“I’ll save myself for the poutine.”

“You’re setting yourself up for a big disappointment there.”

Belle laughed as the waitress came back.

She said, “How was everything, darling? To your liking?”

Belle was the one to answer, having noticed that Rumple didn’t like to deal with strangers very much, as well as to allow him time to finish his meal. “It was delicious, Betty, thank you.”

“Would you like me to bring the check now?”

“Yes, please, we’re on a tight schedule.”

As she left, Belle reached for her purse.

Rumple raised one hand and swallowed the onion ring in his mouth as fast as he could. “Whoa, whoa, you’re not paying.”

“Of course I am,” Belle protested. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because this is my treat. I’m not going to make you pay.”

“You’re not _making_  me pay. You’re driving us to New york and you won’t let me share the gas. Paying for lunch is the least I can do.”

“It’s just lunch.”

“My point precisely. But if it makes you feel more comfortable, I agree to split it.”

“Not a chance.”

“There we go,” Betty announced, dropping a plastic tray with the check on top of it on the table. “Cash or credit?”

Belle said, “Cash.”

Rumple said, “Over my dead body,” and stretched out to take her purse out of her reach, but in the process just managed to drop it on the floor, scattering its contents over the blue and white tile. Since Belle had packed more things inside her purse than inside her suitcase, it was quite a mess. Books slipped out of it, two red lipsticks rolled away from their table, a pink beauty bag dropped heavily by her wallet, and a golden pack of condoms fell on the floor, shining bright and unmistakable under the fluorescent lights.

Maybe it would have been better to collect it last and act natural, but Belle just dived for it and shoved it back into her purse before pushing everything else on top of it with surprising speed. Then, she muttered something about “powdering her nose”, and scurried off to the bathroom, leaving Rumple behind with the smiling waitress.

“Well, well,” she said, giving him a friendly slap on the arm and looking at his face as if he hadn’t turned as red as a pepper. “Aren’t you getting lucky tonight, mister? Good for you!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milah waits at home, trying not to break anything too precious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Milah's POV - finally!
> 
> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

In days like this, it was hard to keep her temper under control. But Milah still did it. She sat on the couch, feeling her body grow restless with each passing minute. What she truly wanted to do – and what she would have done, had this happened before all the promises she had made to her husband – was to tear the house apart, starting with Rumple's study. Not that she had ever gone that far, no matter how much her blood boiled. Breaking something small was usually enough. Dr. Hopper had insisted she punch a pillow when she felt a violent reaction coming up, but that wasn't nearly as satisfying as crashing something into pieces.

Then again, most of Dr. Hopper's advice had turned out to be useless.

Punch a pillow.

Count to ten.

Think lovely thoughts.

And he was always prying, asking a thousand questions about the exact same thing, as if he didn't believe her first answer.

“And how do you think your husband felt about it? Are you sure he was fine with it? How can you tell?”

She could tell because she was his bloody wife. Why was it so hard for him to understand? Quack. Always asking those invasive questions, wanting to know about her mother. As if she had anything to do with anything. He was draining their money on those expensive, pointless sessions, but she didn't feel any better. If anything, it just made her more frustrated.

Quitting therapy was the smartest thing she'd done in a really long time. Not that Rumple would agree with her if he ever found out. He was always asking after her sessions with Dr. Hopper, desperate for Milah to announce, “Hey! Good news! Dr. Hopper finally fixed your screwed up little wife! I am finally perfect for you, Rumple!”

Milah squished a pillow to her chest, trying not to think of how much of a hypocrite her husband could be sometimes. Or how cowardly. The way that his face turned to a grimace and his eyes filled with tears as she pulled at his arm, her grip so strong her fingers became sore. She had screamed, though she was barely aware of it at the time, she couldn't remember what exactly she had said. Something about walking away from a fight while she was still speaking, she hated that.

He had apologized, over and over, and that only made her more angry. Why couldn't he fight her? Why did he always have to cower in the corner and make her feel like a villain? Now he was off to New York and he'd probably tell Neal all about it to win his sympathy. He'd tell him of how Milah lost control for absolutely no good reason, and then they'd sit down to drink and talk about how much of a nut job she truly was.

Milah squeezed the pillow harder, but her blood was still boiling. She needed something else. Something she could reduce to nothing with her bare hands. She needed a drink. She needed to-

The sound of the cellphone ringing caught her attention, an annoying little chirp that made her want to throw the device across the room and against the wall. But then she noticed the name on the screen and rushed to answer it.

She didn't bother to say “hello” though, thinking it would be too easy on him. Instead, she waited for Rumple to make the first move, which he did.

“Hi.”

A short word, but Milah could tell he was repented. She loved the sound of regret in his voice. Timid, but loving and sweet, awaiting her encouragement.

“Did you get to New York already?” she asked, making an effort to sound cold. If he wanted her forgiveness, he'd have to work for it.

“No,” he answered, much in the same fashion. “I just... wanted to hear your voice.”

“Why?”

Rumple thought about it. Milah waited, though she already knew why. He wanted to make sure she hadn't left with Killian yet.

He answered, “I just did. I don't like the way we left things.”

He was feeling guilty. Good.

“I'm sorry,” he said, flooding her heart with joy. “I didn't want to fight this morning.”

Milah shrugged to the empty living room. “Didn't feel like it.”

He sighed. Milah smiled. He was coming around, she knew it.

“We've both been having a rough couple of weeks, but I don't think we're ready to give up yet.”

“No,” Milah said. “No. Of course not.” And for good measure, she added, “I'm sorry. What I said was unnecessary.”

Then came the question she was waiting for. “Are you still going to be there when I come back?”

“How fast can you get here?”

Silence.

Then, “Milah, I'm still going to New York.”

The little smile that started to form in the corners of her mouth crumbled.

“But we have to talk about it,” she said. “We need to have this conversation, _now_.”

“Yes, that's why I called. I-”

“No,” she said, firmly. “Not over the phone. I want you here.”

“I'm half-way to New York now, Milah. I can't come back.”

“I am not asking you not to go to New York,” she said, trying to be flexible. “Just come back now and tomorrow morning you can go. You can spend the whole weekend. Just-just come back home now so we can talk.”

“I can't. I can't turn around now.”

“You _can_. You just _won't_.”

“Milah-”

“I am _trying_ , alright?” she shouted. “I _want_ this marriage to work, why don't you? I am always doing all the work and you can't be bothered to turn the car around for a couple of hours!”

“Milah,” he tried again, “I promised Bae I'd be there today. But if you only-”

“No,” she cut in, making him shut up. “I won't do _anything_. You come back here, _right now_ , or this will be it.”

He sighed, as if he were _bothered_ by her resolution.

“Milah, don't be-”

“I am not kidding, Malcolm!” she shouted. “Right now! Or don't come back at all! In two weeks or in two days, I don't care!”

He paused.

She waited. He'd come around now.

“Is this your final word on the matter?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Well then,” he said, having the audacity of sounding hurt. Always making her out to be the villain. “I'm sorry you feel this way. I'll have my cellphone if you want to talk.”

And with that, he hung up, leaving Milah alone, her temper spiraling out of control like never before.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beloved characters is introduced. Because Belle is clumsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

 

Belle paced the washroom from one wall to the other, which didn't take her three steps. As soon as they got back to Storybrooke, killing Ruby would be a priority.

_So much for being a proud and confident woman who owns her sexuality_ , Belle thought. The sight of the condoms had mortified her. Not that she really cared what anyone would think, but Rumple was _right there_. He was bound to have seen them. What would he be thinking now? That she was traveling to New York with the intentions of hooking up with random strangers, probably.

And Belle had made everything worse by running away to hide in the bathroom, instead of picking everything up and acting naturally.

 _You're being silly_ , she told herself. _He doesn't know Ruby gave them to you in case you wanted to go to bed with him. Maybe he didn't even see them._

Right, yes, she was overreacting. She should just get out of the washroom and rejoin him at the table, as if nothing had happened. With a final look at the mirror to make sure the blush had faded from her cheeks, she walked back to their table but, to her surprise, Rumple was nowhere to be seen.

Her mind was already jumping to the worst case scenario ( _I freaked him out and now he ran away!_ ) when Betty approached her and said, “He's outside, honey. Said he had to make a call. The check's paid up.”

“Right. Thank you.”

“You two have fun in New York,” she said, and gave Belle such a suggestive look that she felt herself turning red all over again.

“I-I don't-We-Okay, bye.”

They were _not_ stopping here on the way back.

Outside, Rumple was standing by the car, phone pressed to his ear, and it didn't take much for Belle to realize he was talking to Milah. She had learned to recognize the distress on his face, and today it was unmistakable. She couldn't hear what he was saying from where she was standing, but it didn't look good.

As Rumple turned around, Belle walked into the nearest store so he wouldn't see her. A simple souvenir shop, with postcards and random nicknacks, nothing she was really interested in, but it was good enough to buy herself some time until he hung up the phone. Besides, the thought of going back into the diner and facing Betty was enough to make her shiver.

“What are you looking for, Miss?” asked the man behind the counter.

Belle shrugged, noncommittally. “Oh, just looking, really.”

His smile faded after that and he made no attempts at starting conversation.

Belle waited near the window, looking out at Rumple as he tried to have a conversation with Milah. It seemed that he wasn't being successful. Belle wondered if Milah was screaming on the other side of the line, or if she was just being cruel. Maybe she had changed her mind and was no longer fine with Rumple giving her a ride to New York. In fact, she had decided it was very inappropriate. He should just tell Belle to take a bus and come back home. And once he got there, there was no telling what Milah might do.

But Rumple soon hung up the phone and rubbed his face. He gave no indication that he'd jump inside the car and drive away, but he didn't look happy either.

“Miss, are you going to buy anything?” the man said, a little frustrated that she had walked in just to stare at the window.

Belle turned to tell him that no, she was just about to leave, when her elbow accidentally bumped on something and sent it flying to the floor. Her arms flailed helplessly in the air, trying to catch it, but it was no use. The tiny tea cup still fell on the floor – on the carpet, thank god! - and, for a moment, Belle actually thought she had been lucky and nothing had happened to it. But then she saw the chip.

The man saw it too, and he gave her a very stern look.

“You chip it,” he said, “you buy it.”

Great.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you don't know what to say, try a gimmick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MaddieBonanaFana

Milah was done with him. Or maybe she was just being difficult, trying to get him to turn the car around and go back home. The worst part was that he was actually considering it. Rumple didn't like the idea of leaving Milah alone when she was angry. She was usually unpredictable, but on bad days it was even worse. If he came back to find her in bed with the biker again, he shouldn't even be surprised.

But if he did that now, he knew he wouldn't go to New York at all. She was very good at wrapping him around her finger, and Rumple knew it. For the most part, he didn't mind. But this was Bae and he didn't want to have a fight with his son again. Or have him drive to Storybrooke to rescue him because he couldn't handle his own wife.

Rumple sighed. Why was his marriage so difficult? What was he doing wrong? Everyone he knew seemed to live in marital bliss, except for him and Milah. By now, he felt as if they had tried _everything_ , and gotten no results. And they were doing so well. They hadn't even had a fight in almost two years. How did they get to that point _again_?

 _I wonder if it has anything to do with you, driving your lover to Bae's birthday party_ , whispered Milah's voice, filling him with shame. Though that was unfair, really. He wasn't planning on doing anything. He just wanted to give her a ride.

_Is that why she has a lifetime supply of condoms in her purse?_

_She's planning something._

_And you like it._

_You hate sex with your own wife._

_But you're loving the possibility that she wants to take you to bed._

Rumple shook his head, trying to muffle her voice away.

No, he wasn't going to do anything. He was driving the both of them to New York. Then Belle would leave on Sunday, and he would spend the next two weeks giving some serious thought to his marriage.

_Yes, more specifically how to get rid of your wife. How to make sure she's well taken care of so you won't feel guilty when you trade her for a younger model. Though I suppose that's more than your father would have done._

“Should I drive?”

_Oh look, Rumple!_ , chirped Milah's voice.  _Your girlfriend's here!_

Rumple sighed. Time for some awkward interaction.

He looked at her, but then he frowned, noticing that she had something in her hands.

He pointed at it. “That's a tea cup.”

Belle looked down at it. She was carrying it with both hands, as if it were a precious thing.

“Yes. I just bought it,” she explained.

“But it's chipped.”

“Yes. That's why I bought it.”

“I see.”

“Does your son like tea? Maybe I should give him this as a birthday present.”

“He actually hates tea. Given that his mother is English and his father is Scottish, I have no idea how that happened.”

Belle smirked at him. “What? Where did you guys go wrong?”

His answer was an almost smile.

Belle said, “Just my luck. Not that this would make for a good birthday present.”

“I assumed you'd have gotten him a book.”

“I did. A graphic novel, to be precise. But this looks so charming to just throw away.”

Rumple cocked his head to the side and looked at it again. “It's just a cup. And it's chipped.”

“I won't throw it in the garbage just because it's chipped.” She offered it to him. “Can you put it in the glove compartment while I drive?”

“Sure,” he said, walking around to sit on the passenger side. “Though I still have no idea why you'd keep a chipped cup.”

“Well, sometimes the best cup is chipped,” Belle said, taking her place behind the wheel. “And it cost me ten dollars. The hell I'm throwing it away now.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milah comes to the library to have some words with Belle. Too bad she's not there.

Ruby spent most of her morning finding new ways of fighting boredom. It started with a long reading of Anne Rice novels, then it switched to Facebook browsing, and finally repeatedly texting Belle: “Library duty is boooring! Library duty is boooring!”

The only reply she got from her friend was a brief: “Sorry.”

Ruby wondered if Belle felt a little bit vindicated right now, for all the times she had covered for Ruby  at the diner,  while her friend was the one out there having adventures.  And sitting behind a library desk was not as hard as trying not to break any plates, or dealing with rude customers. Not even Madam Mayor had bothered to pay her a visit and make sure Belle's replacement hadn't screwed up yet, though that probably had a lot to do with the fact that she didn't want to face Graham's new girlfriend.

Hmm... maybe she should send a message to Graham. Preferably with some very inappropriate suggestions on how to use Belle's desk.

She was about to start typing when Milah Gold walked in, her angry steps echoing in the empty library.

Speaking of rude customers.

“Mrs. Gold, what can I do for you?”

“Where is your friend?” she demanded.

“I'm sorry?”

“Your friend,” she repeated, stressing the words as if Ruby were an idiot. “Where is your friend? I want to speak to her. _Immediately_.”

Ruby stared at Milah, not really knowing what to say.

_ He cannot be that much of a bastard _ , she thought.  _ No, he cannot be that much of an  _ idiot _ ! _

But there was every indication that Mr. Gold was very likely both.  Otherwise, his wife wouldn't have barged into the library (seemingly to challenge Belle to a duel!), acting as if her husband hadn't informed her that he would be driving her friend to New York.

Meanwhile, Belle was likely in his Cadillac, glad that Mrs. Gold was aware of everything and trying not to have unsuitable thoughts about a married man.

_ I am going to castrate him _ .

“Belle is out, Mrs. Gold,” Ruby finally answered. “Should I take a message?”

“When is she coming back?”

“She won't be here all weekend. The library will be closed Saturday and Sunday. Here, have a pamphlet.”

Ruby smiled and handed it over to her, but Milah Gold just watched her with suspicious eyes.

“Where is she?”

“Washington. She's visiting Gaston.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, even though the library was empty. “Don't tell anyone, but I think they're going to get back together.”

Milah sighed with frustration. “Well, when is she coming back?”

“Monday morning, as far as I know. Would you like to leave your number, I can ask her to-”

“No, forget it!” she snapped, and turned around to leave just as angry as she was when she came in.

Ruby waited a couple of minutes to make sure she was gone and reached for her phone. Mr. Gold might not think Belle should have this information, but she disagreed.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fill for the Ellynne's prompt: Belle reading to Rumple as he drives.  
> She's also suggested Beauty and the Beast as their reading material and provided me with this very helpful link: http://talesoffaerie.blogspot.ca/2015/05/batb-beast-as-male-victim-of-rape.html  
>  **Beta** : MaddieBonanaFana

“Alright, what should we read next?” Rumple asked, marking the page on _Pet Sematary_ and looking at the other options Belle had scattered on the backseat.

“Oh, something cute,” Belle asked. “Another chapter of a Stephen King book and I might not sleep tonight.”

“Do you have _The Green Mile_?”

“I said _cute_! How does a story about southern racists sending a miracle man to the electric chair fit your definition of _cute_?”

Rumple shrugged. “At least it's not scary.”

“You're made of stronger stuff than I am.”

“I doubt that. How about _Rose Madder_?”

Belle's eyes flicked in his direction, but went back to the road quickly. “Have you read it before?”

“No.”

“Also not cute.”

“What is it about?”

“Haven't read it yet,” she said, dismissive. “But I know it's not 'last 50 miles of road trip' material. Lets try a fairy tale. I have _Beauty and the Beast_. The good version.”

Rumple took the book from the backseat. He used to read fairy tales for Baelfire when he was a boy, but this didn't look like a Brothers Grimm collection.

“This is 100 pages long,” he stated, checking the last page.

“Don't read the end!” she said. “You're going to spoil it!”

“Everyone knows how it ends, Belle. They kiss, the spell is broken, they live happily ever after. If this is the spooky version, her evil sisters turn into stone.”

“That's the original story. Well, the oldest known version of it. It has subplots and fairies and more magic.”

“The core is the same though,” he pointed out. “Beauty goes into the castle and falls in love with the Beast.”

“But this one is so much better. Do you know why?”

“Because it has more pages?” he guessed.

Belle nodded. “Granted, there's also that. But the Beast is different. His story is different. And it changes the whole book.”

“How so?” he asked, still unconvinced.

“I'm not going to give you spoilers!”

“Then we're reading _The Catcher in the Rye_.” He looked back. “If I can locate it in the mini library you just opened inside my car.”

“I'm not sorry. Mini libraries are a gift,” Belle laughed. Then, she said, “Alright. You know how, in the most popular version of the fairytale, the Beast used to be a spoiled brat who refused to give shelter to an old lady in a storm?”

“Yes?”

“Well, in the first version of this story, the Beast was actually a prince who refused the sexual advances of a dark fairy. As punishment, she not only made him hideous, but also stupid. Because of that, the prince hid from the rest of the world, until Beauty came along.”

Rumple waited for her to go on, but that seemed to be it, so he said, “How does that change the story at all?”

“Are you _kidding_ me? It changes _everything_!”

“Does Beauty still come into the castle?”

“Yes.”

“Does she save him with the power of true love?”

“Yes.”

“Then I fail to see the difference.”

“The difference is that the Beast was sexually assaulted by a woman and isolated himself out of shame. He was never shallow or conceited. He was changed by deep feelings of shame-”

He raised one hand, to slow her down. “You are reading _way too much_ into a small detail.”

“It's a _huge_ detail!”

“He refused the advances of a dark fairy and that is enough to leave him scarred for life? That's a bit of a stretch.”

“How can you-”

Belle's cellphone stopped the argument by ringing the first soft notes of _Little Red Riding Hood_.

“Oh!” Rumple said, amused. “Speaking of fairy tale sexual assaults that are greatly exaggerated.”

“Don't get me started!” she warned him, and pulled to the side of the road to answer the phone. “Hello, Ruby! Did the books runaway or something?”

Rumple laughed.

Ruby didn't. “We need to talk.”

“That sounds serious.”

“Are you in his car?”

“Yes-”

“Get out of the car. We need to talk.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle and Ruby Talk.  
>  **Beta** : MaddieBonanaFana

“What is it with all the drama?” Belle asked, mildly bothered by the whole ordeal. “If Regina is giving you trouble, I can handle her.”

“Are you out of the car?”

“Yes, what is-”

“He didn't tell his wife.”

Belle went quiet.

Ruby took advantage of the silence to explain, “He didn't tell his wife you were coming along to New York. And I know this _for sure_ because she just barged in here like she wanted to challenge you to a duel.”

“Did you tell her where I am?”

“What kind of amateur do you take me for? I told her you were visiting Gaston this weekend, that you wanted to get back together. That will get her off your back. At least until she hears from someone else that you're in New York.”

“Right. Thank you.”

“How's the bastard?”

There was no doubt who Ruby was referring to. She threw a look over her shoulder. She had walked a few feet away, but she could still see Rumple inside the car, turning the pages on _Beauty and the Beast_ , still mildly puzzled at the information Belle had given him.

“He's fine.”

After a beat, Ruby said, “You sound very chill for a woman who just found out she's been lied to.”

“Yes, well.”

“Don't tell me you knew.”

“I didn't!” she answered, almost offended. After a pause, she added, “Not officially.”

“Not _officially_?”

“I'm not an idiot, you know?” she snapped. “I didn't really think his wife would just let him drive me to New York. Especially not after what happened outside of Granny's.”

“And I'm here, worrying that he was making a fool out of you. Not that this wasn't his intention.”

“He didn't want to make a fool out of me. You know how Mrs. Gold is. I'm surprised she even allowed him out of her sight.”

“Don't be that woman, Belle.”

“What woman?”

“The kind that blames it on the wife when the husband screws up.”

“Ruby-”

“You know why he lied to her, and it has very little to do with being a good friend. He wanted you to come along and he knew you'd say no if you knew you were doing it behind his wife's bak. Do you care about that at all?”

“No. I don't.”

“Belle!”

“I care that she's an abusive _bitch_ that might have broken his other arm if he even mentioned my name. He's not a bad person. He just wants a break from her, and I can't blame him.”

“Fine!” Ruby all but yelled on the other side of the line. “I'm not saying he didn't have his reasons to lie to her, but he should have told _you_! He just roped you up in his problems because he was too much of a coward to give you the choice of saying 'this is too much'. How are you going to justify that?”

Belle searched her mind for an argument that could prove Ruby wrong, but found none. Her best friend was being reasonable. So, instead of being reasonable in return, Belle just gave in to frustration and said, “You're not in the position of judging anyone for making bad decisions.”

“Belle!” Ruby cried, sounding hurt.

“This isn't your problem, and this isn't your choice.”

“You could have told me that before I lied to someone's _wife_ for you.”

“I already said thank you! What else do you want from me?”

Ruby shouted, “ _Nothing_! I want _nothing_! Enjoy your trip!” and hung up.

Belle walked back to the car, but didn't take the wheel again. Instead, she knocked on Rumple's window, calling for his attention.

He opened the door and stepped out, “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is great,” she said, but she felt like her blood was boiling and it probably showed in her voice. “Do you mind driving again? I can't concentrate right now.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrissykp prompted: Gold gets a little distracted by something Belle does (take that as you will) and misses a turn or a highway exit or something, getting them a little lost.
> 
>  **Beta** : MaddieBonanaFana

 

Maybe Milah was right. Maybe he did bring out the worst in people. It was one of her cruelest accusations, but right now he couldn't refute it. Ever since he'd taken the wheel back, Belle had been sitting on the passenger seat with her mouth shut and any attempts of starting conversation were met with monosyllabic replies.

“Is it Regina?” he asked first. Regina Mills was known to cause terror and melancholia in people. It was a reasonable assumption. “Is she giving you a hard time?”

“No,” Belle answered. “She's fine. It's something silly. With Ruby.”

“Did she-”

“Why don't I read you _The Catcher in the Rye_?” she offered, though her heart wasn't in the suggestion.

“You don't have to. If you'd like to, you can take a rest. It's only 50 miles more.”

Usually, Belle would insist against the idea of being silent as if it meant the same as abandoning him in the car by himself. But now she didn't. She just thanked him and rested her head on the window, looking at the cars passing them by.

To make everything worse, the traffic slowed down as they approached New York City, as usual. Why did he insist on driving to Neal's place? Any sane person who could afford a ticket would take a plane. He was too old to fear flying as much as he did. As a consequence, he was now stuck in a car with a woman he had inadvertently made angry. She claimed it was Ruby, but what did Ruby ever do to her? It wasn't like her to have such a huge fight with her best friend.

_She's just lying to be polite. You know who she's really mad at._

But why would she be mad at him?

_You know what you've done, you're just playing dumb._

He wasn't playing dumb. He wasn't doing anything. He genuinely had no idea.

_She's just going to be angrier if you keep pretending you don't know what you did._

But he wasn't pretending! He had done nothing!

“You missed the exit.”

Rumple looked at her. Belle had turned her face to the back of the car to watch the window. Behind them, the exit was long gone, and they were once again stuck in a line of vehicles that wouldn't move.

“I can't believe this,” he muttered.

“It's alright. We'll get off on the next one,” Belle said, dismissing the whole thing and leaning on the window again.

Rumple said, “I'm an idiot,” because it was so much better to just say it than to hear it from someone else's lips.

Belle replied, “You're not an idiot because you missed an exit.”

“I'm not a genius either,” he retorted.

He could feel her eyes turning to him, examining him. “You're being too hard on yourself for something so trivial.”

“The exit was right there and I didn't even see it. How do you call that?”

“Something that happens and that can easily be fixed, it's the usual definition.”

He shook his head. “It's always like this. It's like I can't have more than one thing in my mind.”

“What's on your mind?”

Rumple glanced at her, but answered, “Nothing.”

She had to know it was a lie – wasn't even a good one – but she granted him the favor of not pushing the subject any further.

“If it's nothing, then you shouldn't dwell on it,” she said, with kindness. “You missed an exit. That doesn't make you an idiot.”

“Right.”

“You should say it.”

“Say what?”

“I missed the exit. That doesn't make me an idiot.”

He took advantage of the slow traffic to look at her. There was a smile on her face, but she sounded dead serious.

“Why?”

She cocked her head to the side and batted her eyes, in an exaggerated flirt. “For me?”

He knew she was just kidding, but the corners of his mouth tried to form a smile. He forced them to stay in place. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I'd feel silly.”

“You just called yourself an idiot, and that didn't make you feel silly.”

He sighed.

“Please?”

“I'll make you a deal,” he said. “I'll say it, if you tell me why you're upset.”

“I'm not upset,” she replied, quickly. When it became clear he didn't believe her, she added, “It's a silly fight with Ruby. It's a private matter.”

“Is there anything that I can do?”

“No,” Belle replied, looking away. “Woman’s stuff. We'll solve everything on Monday.”

Rumple nodded. Good. That sounded a little more honest. Maybe she wasn't mad _at him_ , at least for now.

Gathering courage he muttered, “I missed an exit. That doesn't make me an idiot.” It didn't feel right in his mouth. If anything, it felt like a joke he was playing on himself. He _was_ an idiot. The exit was _right there_. And now they were both wasting time.

But Belle chuckled and brought her hand to her ear. “I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you very well.”

“I'm not saying it again.”

“It only counts if I can hear it.”

“That wasn't in the original agreement!”

“You should have read the fine print.”

“For goodness' sake,” he rolled his eyes. “I missed an exit. That doesn't make me an idiot.”

That was clear enough.

But Belle was narrowing her eyes at him.

“What now?”

“I don't think that you believe it.”

“Was that in the fine print as well?”

“Yup.”

“Belle-”

“One last time. Then I'll leave you alone.”

“And I will never do this again, no matter how many exits I miss on my way back.”

“So what do you say?”

“I missed-”

“Louder!” she shouted, making him jump.

“I... fine! I missed an exit!” he recited, not as loud as she'd probably deem acceptable, but still loud enough to make her laugh. “That doesn't make me an idiot! Are you happy, Miss French?”

“Yes!” she beamed, clapping her hands. “That was really good!”

“You are so easy to impress,” he said, though he couldn't help but smile. “I better pay attention to the road. God forbid I miss the next one. There's no telling what you might make me do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a couple of prompts to fill that I've decided to keep for later on, where they'll fit better. But as far as our semi-fluffy road trip is concerned, this is it! Next time we see our heroes, they'll be in New York.


End file.
